"The first week went well, I take it?" Alice asked. But then the taxi pulled away. Slid on the gravel, left a cloud of dust that made her cough and Gary offer his sleeve. Moment where Alice could pretend she was a caring girlfriend, or at least something other than tired: ruined.
Oh well. She didn't bother to struggle with her luggage, just dumped a suitcase at his feet and staggered for the door, handbag in hand. No time to admire the new property. All she wanted to do was collapse in the nearest four-poster bed and sleep off the immense jetlag. The nice travelling brochure for London sure hadn't warned her about this.
No point in looking at what they'd bought, either. She'd seen more than enough pictures, and could practically recite the agency's spiel: Gorgeous Italian-styled villa, eight bedrooms, a sprawling vineyard. All in the middle of Margaret River, where the land was fertile and the land was cheap. Just hire a few servants, and it would be easy to make a fortune brewing fine wines for the booming city hours north. They could host weddings and take guests, too! Oh, how lucky she was that Gary bought that lottery ticket.
Blah blah, good for them, blah, blah, luck. Luck. None of this was hard work, nothing credited to her degree or his career, it was just luck and everyone was just jealous. And honest-to-god, Alice just wanted to sleep.
"A lot's happened. Moving in, meeting the neighbours, hiring the servants." Gary was saying. Alice only started listening to him around this point, because he'd jogged around in front of her. Defensive or just being a gentleman and holding the door? Who knew; who cared, Alice was tired and if I'm not let in soon, I'll strangle that man-
"But first, say hello to our new puppy!"
Gary rang the charming little bell (ding-ding! thump thump thump), and suddenly Alice wasn't entirely sure he should really open the quaint wooden door, but he opened it anyway - and despite her jetlag, she managed a shriek, and even recoiled behind him. Apparently, twelve hours of sitting in a plane and an airport and in another plane weren't enough to stop someone from being utterly terrified. Or maybe the 'puppy' was just that dreadful a sight. It was pretty damn awful.
Alice's eyes felt so big as she stared over his shoulder, they seemed to strain their sockets. She shook so badly, she nearly fell over. Ended up clinging to her boyfriend as though he were a rock in the middle of a flooded river, only she wasn't quite desperate enough to break her nails by digging them in. Alice didn't quite have a stiff upper lip, but she had some standards. "You think we're keeping that in the house?!? B-but it, it's- too big! Huge! Humongous! Bigger, bigger than- than me! Too big!"
She wasn't exaggerating. Understating it, if anything - the overly happy mass of orange and black was so massive, it had gotten itself stuck in the doorway en-route to Gary. It slid slowly towards the floor, front legs paddling feverishly, which would have been pretty funny if it wasn't the giant claws swatting about.
"Chill, it's not all the time", Gary laughed. Alice couldn't believe her boyfriend was this freaking relaxed, let alone telling her to calm down. Then again, he was a heavy guy - nothing on the creature in front of them, of course, but well-built. Fat, possibly. Despite being a stick insect herself, and rather particular about what she ate, Alice loved him regardless.
Just didn't love him quite as much in this particular moment. "Sammanta-Not-Samantha comes and goes as she pleases, you know? Wild dog," he smiled. She glared. He smiled some more, and she looked away in the interests of not falling for him completely. Curse that incredibly cute smile, Alice almost wanted to keep the wild dog now.
Almost.
So, Sammanta-Not-Samantha... What a terrible name. Alice looked the greatly-oversized 'puppy' in the eye, lip curling in utter disgust. I'm not calling you that. No dog ought to be called that.
...Come to think of it, Alice wasn't entirely sure dogs came in orange and black. She wasn't much of a dog person, but that seemed wrong. Very wrong. Definitely wrong - it was a creature, then. One of those ligers she'd heard about, but with a wolf and a tiger and then lots of those drugs bad athletes took sometimes. Science really wasn't Alice's strong suit. The beast in front of her was a thing, then; a bad thing. And bad things were far easier to get rid of than dogs.
"Wild sounds right", she grimaced, pulling her handbag (Gucci Dionysus, whatever that meant) close to her chest. The beast before her wriggled eagerly, paws drifting towards the floor. "Well, once she's gone, you'll have to make sure she's not coming back in."
"You can't do that!" Gary sounded horrified; Alice idly wondered what he'd been drinking this week. Something expensive? No, he was a decent twenty-three year old. Scratch that, a stingy twenty-three year old. Even if he'd won a lottery, she doubted he'd ever buy a bottle of champagne. So... A cheap brand, then. Or maybe he'd already brewed some of those fine wines the estate agent had promised. Whatever the case, it wasn't something she could smell on his breath.
"And why can't I do it?" Alice put her hands on her hips, and tried to look a bit older. Her? Two years out of highschool? Certainly not. She'd been on her way to a lawyer's degree when that lucky ticket was bought, she'd have you know. Working hard! Her fortunes had nothing to do with luck! Or her boyfriend!
"The local culture's wild dogs!" he retorted, petulantly.
Greeeeeeat, so the savages probably ate them. Alice almost felt sorry for this 'pet', then noticed how close it was getting to the ground, and stepped to the left. Took another step, after a second thought. She wasn't going to get flattened by a combination of not-dog and boyfriend today, no thank you. "Well. Do you remember the real estate agent mentioning 'wild dogs' as part of our 'charming villa package'?"
"No?"
Then the wild dog, or bad thing, or whatever it was - it hit the doorstep at long last, then darted to the left and flung itself at her - what an awful surprise! - and Alice screamed and Gary was yelling "Bad Sam, sit, bad Sam", but like hell was that helping. The gravel bit into her neck, ripped her nice dress. Probably rubbed a mixture of dirt and burned tyres all over it while it was at it. Hurt. There was a giant freaky monster dog on top of her, drooling in her face, and all Alice could think about was the ground. So stupid!
Then it hit her. The fangs weren't lodged in her neck, that was the gravel. And the claws weren't tearing her dress. And the beast didn't even feel as heavy as it looked; it wasn't crushing her like she'd expected, and when Gary grabbed a handful of fluffy mane and hauled, its front paws rose easily. This dog - sorry, bad thing - wasn't trying to hurt her more than shoving into the ground. And its tail was wagging. Maybe it was even...
"You're friendly?" she blurted out. The beast barked, twisted free of Gary's grip. A back leg kicked him somewhere probably very painful, and Alice would have laughed rather meanly but the bad thing was freed, and that wasn't a good thing. The world went dark, there was a lot of licking and slobbering and barking right in her ear, and - well, she completely and utterly regretted everything. The house, the lottery, and especially leaving Gary alone for a week. Just look at what he'd brought in! A big, drooly, ugly, not-even-dog, with a not-even-decent-name! Sammanta-Not-Samantha indeed.
"Awww, she likes you!" Good old Gary. Stupid Gary. Great at cooking but despite his considerable skill with a knife, utterly useless whenever the situation was remotely serious. Any other boyfriend would have used both hands to get the damn thing off, but not this guy. "So since you like her, she can stay, ri-"
"GET IT OFF!" she screamed. Boyfriend rushed forwards, beast sprang backwards. The two hit the door - and the door, being quaint and little, didn't do so well. Alice didn't care, or at least slammed it so hard when she stormed inside that the other hinge came off in a shower of splinters and country charm. And then the door toppled on top on her boyfriend and his stupid, stupid pet. Wild animal. Whatever it was.
"Ow-! Alice, no! Sam, no! Wait! Stay! Sit! Sit!"
Alice kept walking. Oh, she could cry. She didn't, of course, but she could. Maybe she should, actually. As she knew very well from the airport, overtired kids throw tantrums. Overtired adults were probably supposed to do that too - well, maybe they weren't, but unlike every spoiled brat ever, Alice actually had good reason to do so. Like being TRAUMATISED by a BIG HORRIBLE DOG THING. Or accidentally THROWING A DOOR at her ONLY BOYFRIEND EVER.
(Alice noted the dining table as she stalked past, a broken vase and a crack down the middle of the timber. Giant soggy paw-prints led across the white and carpet towards the front d... thoroughly door-less entrance. She suspected, but said nothing to herself of the matter.)
Anyway, Alice didn't cry. She wasn't really sure why - maybe because she was better than that, or maybe because it would spoil her makeup. She walked into the nearest convenient bedroom, threw down her handbag, then threw a shoe at a wall (the heel left a hole - Alice had no idea that was even possible), but she didn't cry.
Well, not until she was lying facedown on the bed, at which point she remembered she'd left her pyjamas in the luggage. The pink suitcase with the fish-shaped tag on it. One of a pile left outside, by the remains of a door. And of course, whatever was left of her boyfriend after the beast/wild dog/bad thing was done killing him. Then something inside her snapped, like, badly, and Alice sobbed wildly, just like the people in soap operas, only she wasn't acting or being paid lots of money, she already had lots of money and just hadn't earned it at all. Stupid bloody lottery. Stupid London. Stupid monster, or wild dog, or whatever it was supposed to be-
Ah, the monster. Alice stopped crying, just to throw her other shoe at the creature whining from the doorway it couldn't quite fit through. Then went back to crying. Then stopped again because she'd rolled over to do that whole 'Oh, I am so sad, look at me Jesus and feel very sorry for me' routine people did in the movies, and mid-roll saw something pink and sparkly.
Her suitcase. Pyjamas! Sleep.
Good old Gary.
The funny thing was, if you listened very carefully for the distant cursing, he seemed to be still trapped under that door. But maybe Alice just needed her hearing checked. And plane engines were loud enough to make her ears ring, and it didn't matter anyway, Gary was an awful joker and Alice just wanted to get this awful day over with, and she was so very tired. She ought to sleep.
So she did.
Oh well. She didn't bother to struggle with her luggage, just dumped a suitcase at his feet and staggered for the door, handbag in hand. No time to admire the new property. All she wanted to do was collapse in the nearest four-poster bed and sleep off the immense jetlag. The nice travelling brochure for London sure hadn't warned her about this.
No point in looking at what they'd bought, either. She'd seen more than enough pictures, and could practically recite the agency's spiel: Gorgeous Italian-styled villa, eight bedrooms, a sprawling vineyard. All in the middle of Margaret River, where the land was fertile and the land was cheap. Just hire a few servants, and it would be easy to make a fortune brewing fine wines for the booming city hours north. They could host weddings and take guests, too! Oh, how lucky she was that Gary bought that lottery ticket.
Blah blah, good for them, blah, blah, luck. Luck. None of this was hard work, nothing credited to her degree or his career, it was just luck and everyone was just jealous. And honest-to-god, Alice just wanted to sleep.
"A lot's happened. Moving in, meeting the neighbours, hiring the servants." Gary was saying. Alice only started listening to him around this point, because he'd jogged around in front of her. Defensive or just being a gentleman and holding the door? Who knew; who cared, Alice was tired and if I'm not let in soon, I'll strangle that man-
"But first, say hello to our new puppy!"
Gary rang the charming little bell (ding-ding! thump thump thump), and suddenly Alice wasn't entirely sure he should really open the quaint wooden door, but he opened it anyway - and despite her jetlag, she managed a shriek, and even recoiled behind him. Apparently, twelve hours of sitting in a plane and an airport and in another plane weren't enough to stop someone from being utterly terrified. Or maybe the 'puppy' was just that dreadful a sight. It was pretty damn awful.
Alice's eyes felt so big as she stared over his shoulder, they seemed to strain their sockets. She shook so badly, she nearly fell over. Ended up clinging to her boyfriend as though he were a rock in the middle of a flooded river, only she wasn't quite desperate enough to break her nails by digging them in. Alice didn't quite have a stiff upper lip, but she had some standards. "You think we're keeping that in the house?!? B-but it, it's- too big! Huge! Humongous! Bigger, bigger than- than me! Too big!"
She wasn't exaggerating. Understating it, if anything - the overly happy mass of orange and black was so massive, it had gotten itself stuck in the doorway en-route to Gary. It slid slowly towards the floor, front legs paddling feverishly, which would have been pretty funny if it wasn't the giant claws swatting about.
"Chill, it's not all the time", Gary laughed. Alice couldn't believe her boyfriend was this freaking relaxed, let alone telling her to calm down. Then again, he was a heavy guy - nothing on the creature in front of them, of course, but well-built. Fat, possibly. Despite being a stick insect herself, and rather particular about what she ate, Alice loved him regardless.
Just didn't love him quite as much in this particular moment. "Sammanta-Not-Samantha comes and goes as she pleases, you know? Wild dog," he smiled. She glared. He smiled some more, and she looked away in the interests of not falling for him completely. Curse that incredibly cute smile, Alice almost wanted to keep the wild dog now.
Almost.
So, Sammanta-Not-Samantha... What a terrible name. Alice looked the greatly-oversized 'puppy' in the eye, lip curling in utter disgust. I'm not calling you that. No dog ought to be called that.
...Come to think of it, Alice wasn't entirely sure dogs came in orange and black. She wasn't much of a dog person, but that seemed wrong. Very wrong. Definitely wrong - it was a creature, then. One of those ligers she'd heard about, but with a wolf and a tiger and then lots of those drugs bad athletes took sometimes. Science really wasn't Alice's strong suit. The beast in front of her was a thing, then; a bad thing. And bad things were far easier to get rid of than dogs.
"Wild sounds right", she grimaced, pulling her handbag (Gucci Dionysus, whatever that meant) close to her chest. The beast before her wriggled eagerly, paws drifting towards the floor. "Well, once she's gone, you'll have to make sure she's not coming back in."
"You can't do that!" Gary sounded horrified; Alice idly wondered what he'd been drinking this week. Something expensive? No, he was a decent twenty-three year old. Scratch that, a stingy twenty-three year old. Even if he'd won a lottery, she doubted he'd ever buy a bottle of champagne. So... A cheap brand, then. Or maybe he'd already brewed some of those fine wines the estate agent had promised. Whatever the case, it wasn't something she could smell on his breath.
"And why can't I do it?" Alice put her hands on her hips, and tried to look a bit older. Her? Two years out of highschool? Certainly not. She'd been on her way to a lawyer's degree when that lucky ticket was bought, she'd have you know. Working hard! Her fortunes had nothing to do with luck! Or her boyfriend!
"The local culture's wild dogs!" he retorted, petulantly.
Greeeeeeat, so the savages probably ate them. Alice almost felt sorry for this 'pet', then noticed how close it was getting to the ground, and stepped to the left. Took another step, after a second thought. She wasn't going to get flattened by a combination of not-dog and boyfriend today, no thank you. "Well. Do you remember the real estate agent mentioning 'wild dogs' as part of our 'charming villa package'?"
"No?"
Then the wild dog, or bad thing, or whatever it was - it hit the doorstep at long last, then darted to the left and flung itself at her - what an awful surprise! - and Alice screamed and Gary was yelling "Bad Sam, sit, bad Sam", but like hell was that helping. The gravel bit into her neck, ripped her nice dress. Probably rubbed a mixture of dirt and burned tyres all over it while it was at it. Hurt. There was a giant freaky monster dog on top of her, drooling in her face, and all Alice could think about was the ground. So stupid!
Then it hit her. The fangs weren't lodged in her neck, that was the gravel. And the claws weren't tearing her dress. And the beast didn't even feel as heavy as it looked; it wasn't crushing her like she'd expected, and when Gary grabbed a handful of fluffy mane and hauled, its front paws rose easily. This dog - sorry, bad thing - wasn't trying to hurt her more than shoving into the ground. And its tail was wagging. Maybe it was even...
"You're friendly?" she blurted out. The beast barked, twisted free of Gary's grip. A back leg kicked him somewhere probably very painful, and Alice would have laughed rather meanly but the bad thing was freed, and that wasn't a good thing. The world went dark, there was a lot of licking and slobbering and barking right in her ear, and - well, she completely and utterly regretted everything. The house, the lottery, and especially leaving Gary alone for a week. Just look at what he'd brought in! A big, drooly, ugly, not-even-dog, with a not-even-decent-name! Sammanta-Not-Samantha indeed.
"Awww, she likes you!" Good old Gary. Stupid Gary. Great at cooking but despite his considerable skill with a knife, utterly useless whenever the situation was remotely serious. Any other boyfriend would have used both hands to get the damn thing off, but not this guy. "So since you like her, she can stay, ri-"
"GET IT OFF!" she screamed. Boyfriend rushed forwards, beast sprang backwards. The two hit the door - and the door, being quaint and little, didn't do so well. Alice didn't care, or at least slammed it so hard when she stormed inside that the other hinge came off in a shower of splinters and country charm. And then the door toppled on top on her boyfriend and his stupid, stupid pet. Wild animal. Whatever it was.
"Ow-! Alice, no! Sam, no! Wait! Stay! Sit! Sit!"
Alice kept walking. Oh, she could cry. She didn't, of course, but she could. Maybe she should, actually. As she knew very well from the airport, overtired kids throw tantrums. Overtired adults were probably supposed to do that too - well, maybe they weren't, but unlike every spoiled brat ever, Alice actually had good reason to do so. Like being TRAUMATISED by a BIG HORRIBLE DOG THING. Or accidentally THROWING A DOOR at her ONLY BOYFRIEND EVER.
(Alice noted the dining table as she stalked past, a broken vase and a crack down the middle of the timber. Giant soggy paw-prints led across the white and carpet towards the front d... thoroughly door-less entrance. She suspected, but said nothing to herself of the matter.)
Anyway, Alice didn't cry. She wasn't really sure why - maybe because she was better than that, or maybe because it would spoil her makeup. She walked into the nearest convenient bedroom, threw down her handbag, then threw a shoe at a wall (the heel left a hole - Alice had no idea that was even possible), but she didn't cry.
Well, not until she was lying facedown on the bed, at which point she remembered she'd left her pyjamas in the luggage. The pink suitcase with the fish-shaped tag on it. One of a pile left outside, by the remains of a door. And of course, whatever was left of her boyfriend after the beast/wild dog/bad thing was done killing him. Then something inside her snapped, like, badly, and Alice sobbed wildly, just like the people in soap operas, only she wasn't acting or being paid lots of money, she already had lots of money and just hadn't earned it at all. Stupid bloody lottery. Stupid London. Stupid monster, or wild dog, or whatever it was supposed to be-
Ah, the monster. Alice stopped crying, just to throw her other shoe at the creature whining from the doorway it couldn't quite fit through. Then went back to crying. Then stopped again because she'd rolled over to do that whole 'Oh, I am so sad, look at me Jesus and feel very sorry for me' routine people did in the movies, and mid-roll saw something pink and sparkly.
Her suitcase. Pyjamas! Sleep.
Good old Gary.
The funny thing was, if you listened very carefully for the distant cursing, he seemed to be still trapped under that door. But maybe Alice just needed her hearing checked. And plane engines were loud enough to make her ears ring, and it didn't matter anyway, Gary was an awful joker and Alice just wanted to get this awful day over with, and she was so very tired. She ought to sleep.
So she did.